Wednesday, February 1, 2012

From the Horse's Mouth

    Today I had the pleasure of being a horse. I was owned by two beautiful blond haired girls, one with green eyes, one with blue.  One cowgirl was all gussied up in her Sunday best and sporting two ponytail holders and three clips in her hair. The other was wearing just a shirt and diaper and only because her mom made her (same girl who saw the hair brush in mom's hand this morning and took off running screeching "Owww").
    Green eyes decided upon our names today. She is Kristy, little cowgirl is Raysta, and I, of course, am Lightening.   And so it goes...
    Now, if you are any kind of a horse at all, you know that you can't talk or laugh, only observe quietly from your place on the living room floor, excuse me, pasture, and obediently follow the will of your owners.
    Kristy is a gentle little cowgirl who is all about the details. Before her ride she lovingly puts on my green dish towel saddle and bath robe belt bridle.  She leans over into my face and says,"Let's go get the mail, girl, okay?"  Then she hops on and gently clicks with her tongue and away we go.  If she's feeling feisty she adds a "Yeeaaw" and I am supposed to go faster. 
     We get back to the barnyard after our ride and waiting there is Raysta. She is excitedly hopping around trying to figure out the best way to mount. She prefers no saddle, or reins either, a barebackin' cowgirl is she.  She finally figures out a way for her little legs to clamber on, grabs ahold of my hair and waits for the ride to begin.  A few giggles can be heard as we parade around the barnyard with Kristy leading us along.
    After the ride is the bliss of grooming. Kristy wields a brush and begins working on my mane. After she smooths it out she moves on to my back and legs speaking soothingly to me all the while and giving a little reassuring pat here and there.  At the same time Raysta is inspecting me for imperfections and when she finds one she gives it a good pinch or two.  She comes to my face and pushes wayward strands of mane to the side, puts a wet wipe on my head and gives me an impish grin.  Then, for a change of scenery, she crawls underneath me, lays on the ground staring up at me and soon there is a foot in my face and the same grin is back.
   By this time Kristy has decided it is bed time and brings me to the stall, locks me in and heads for her home.  Raysta, obviously a night owl, figures no such thing and breaks me back out and takes me on a midnight run. When we get back to the stall, instead of heading home, she stays on my back and lays there until it's morning time when the cycle begins again.
   Being a well loved horse is a wonderful opportunity. I am thankful it's another thing that fits in my job description, and that it ranks higher than things like vacuuming and toilet scrubbing.